


It Wasn't Fate

by DamiensDemon



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Gen, Implied Relationships, Jeff the Killer AU, Jeffery Taylor, M/M, Multi, Other, Personal Growth, Recovery, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28516098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DamiensDemon/pseuds/DamiensDemon
Summary: Jeffery Taylor has a lot of regrets. As an adult, years after making his worst mistakes, he still struggles with the physical and mental scars left by the past. He wants to do better. Be better. Feel better. If given the choice, he'd do anything to be happy again. But he doesn't know where to begin.It isn't chance that he meets someone new, someone who can actually relate to him. For the first time in ages, Jeff chooses to let someone in, and has to find out what it means to really open up to somebody. And, in turn, his new friend will learn how deep the rabbit hole goes.This is a VERY slow-burn friends to lovers story, surrounding a personal AU Jeff and an OC. There's gonna be some smut eventually, but in the meantime, expect a lot of dumb idiots flirting, therapy through friendship, and BONDING.
Relationships: BEN (BEN Drowned)/Jeffrey Woods | Jeff the Killer, Jeffrey Woods | Jeff The Killer/Original Character(s), Jeffrey Woods | Jeff the Killer & Ben (BEN Drowned), Jeffrey Woods | Jeff the Killer/Original Male Character(s), Jeffrey Woods | Jeff the Killer/Reader
Kudos: 8





	1. Cover Page

_Illustration by t_c_b_ll on Instagram._


	2. Prologue

You found them before he did.

On any other night, he’d be the one kneeling before the cardboard box in that alleyway. But tonight, it’s you who’s got their hands full with a new responsibility.

From the end of the shadow-soaked street, a pair of wide-eyes stare you down as you gingerly pet a tipsy kitten. He can see the worried furrow in your brow, and though he can’t see your mouth beneath your mask, your concern is obvious. You twist around, peering down both sides of the road. Your eyes can’t even pick up his form in the dark. Still, he takes a half-step back reflexively.

The wind pushes on both of you, and with a shiver, you fold your coat tighter around yourself. “Poor babies… I don’t like the cold, either.” You whisper. “I’m not supposed to keep _pets_ , but… maybe just one night would be okay.”

A meow rings out from a nearby rooftop, where a large black cat begins to hop down, from the window sill to a dumpster lid. The cat quickly darts between you and the box, shooting you a dirty look before hopping into the box.

“Took you long enough, mama.” You laugh quietly, letting out a relieved sigh as you straighten back up. With one last peek into the box, you resume your route down the sidewalk.

And behind you, your shadow tails you at a comfortable distance.

One hot shower later, and the worries of the evening are forgotten. When you’re safely in bed, under a thick stack of blankets, wearing your comfiest pajamas, it’s hard to remember that you were ever cold. When you plug your phone in and let the darkness swallow you whole, you feel safe in it.

Before long, you’re fast asleep. You dream of flying over rooftops, collecting armfuls of kittens along the way. To protect them from the wind, you tuck them into your jacket, and they purr against your chest.

Perched on the sturdiest limb of the tree outside your window, someone watches over you. He’s just a few away from your unconscious form. Really, there’s only three layers separating you from your _protector_. Your thick blankets, the smudged glass of your window, and his sunglasses. He lowers that number to two as he slides his glasses off. With just the moon to provide light, it’s hard for him to be sure that you’re still breathing. Luckily enough, he can _just_ make out the slow rise and fall of your chest.

… _In… and out._

 _In… and out_.

When he’s certain that you’re dreaming deeply, he leans back against the tree-trunk. Idly, he traces the scars on the back of his hand with the thumb of the other.

You’re a lot like him, he thinks. He wonders what you’d think of him. He knows that you’re a good person. A _protector_ , just like him. In the same way he could sense that about you, he thinks that perhaps you’d be able to feel the good in you.

That’s why he decided to watch over you. For tonight, at least.

_In…_

He does for you what he wishes that others could do for him. Everyone should look out for each other.

_And out_.

But they won’t. So, he’ll keep watch over you. He’ll ensure your safety. Your _survival_.

_In…_

The world needs more people like you. It’s just a shame you need to be protected.

_And_

Really, what is _wrong_ with society?

_Out_.


	3. Trust and Judgement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand so, the story properly begins! I prefer writing in third person over first, but I felt like the prologue made more sense from Jeff's point of view.
> 
> The art for this chapter was made by t_c_b_ll on Instagram, who makes some fantastic Jeff the Killer art.
> 
> Let me know if you have any thoughts, comments, or questions!

_In… and out._

Russell stretched up on his tiptoes as he plucked a bottle of neon-blue soda from the interior of the mini-mart cooler. The store is silent, save for the electric buzz of the lights and the tinny pop playing from an unseen radio. Behind the counter, the attendant played on his phone as he numbly let the night slip by.

Russell shouldn’t have been out so late. He knew that. In the desert, it's common knowledge that home is the best place to be when the sun goes down. But, with exhaustion glazed over his features he couldn’t say no to the sugar-kick his body was craving. And, _damn it, I’m a grown fucking man. What’s the point of being an adult if you can’t even over-caffeinate yourself at two in the morning!_

_... How much caffeine is in this thing, anyway?_

Curiously, he began examining the label of his soda and let the cooler door swing shut. A loud _thunk_ resonated through the store, making him jump. Self-consciously, Russell checked for witnesses. Fortunately, he was alone in the aisle. 

He caught his reflection in the glass cooler door. Behind him, someone appeared from the back of the store.

Just out of Russell’s natural line of sight, but captured in the reflection, a tall figure stood motionless. At this distance, their only discernible features were their height, their big dark sunglasses, and a plain medical mask.

None of that was particularly alarming. Plenty of people in that area would prefer not to be seen, including Russell. He was wearing a mask as well, though his own hair was a few inches shorter than the tall-one's dark mane.

Still, the stillness of their rigid posture made Russ's paranoia kick in. _Am I in their way? But, why are they waiting down there, then…?_

With a second look-over, Russ decided that _rigid_ wasn't the right word. Despite their height, they were slouched. Their broad shoulders rose and fell with steady and deep breaths. Within the pocket of their stained hoodie, their hands were stationary.

No, this person was _focused_.

Russell tightened his grip on his soda, summoning up his courage. Then, he quickly turned around to look directly at them.

In the time it took him to find the spot the figure had been standing in, they were already gone. A shiver shot up his back, but with a roll of his shoulders, Russ dismissed his paranoia.

 _Here I am, getting all freaked out about someone standing around in a store, when_ I've _been standing here staring at_ them _._

With an exasperated sigh, he shook his head and made his way to the front of the store with his prize in-hand.

The exit chimed an optimistic farewell as Russ stepped out onto the street. The wind noisily hurried past him, rustling the plastic bag clutched in his grip. As he smoothed his hair out of his face, the faint thrum of music floated to him from the bar across the street. With the breeze urging him along, he began his walk home.

Before his mind could wander off completely, another sound found its way to his ears. It was nearly drowned out by the pounding bass, but a distinctive door-chime rang out from the store behind him.

The store with only one other customer in it.

Gripping his bag firmly, he kept his head down and walked faster. The pang of fear he felt was, more than likely, irrational. But that didn’t stop the sensations of eyes boring a hole into his back. _Deep breaths. In, and out._

“-- for me?”

Over the wind, he heard a voice. Just the tail-end of a sentence. With dread building in his stomach, he hesitantly glanced toward the speaker.

Across the street, in front of the bar, a gaggle of assorted inebriates wave back at him. That wasn’t what he’d been expecting to see. He risked a glance toward the store, but found no sign of the tall person. With a soft sigh of relief, Russ turned his attention to the group.

“What was that?” He called out.

A ripple of laughter passed through them, and one repeated the initial question. “Whatcha got for me, _sweetie_? Did you buy me something?”

_Oh, no._

His face burned, and he stammered back, “I-... It’s a soda.”

“I wanna sip!” A different lad in the herd shouted. To his right, a less-drunk friend slapped him on the arm. Undiscouraged, he continued, “C’mon, honey, I’m _thirsty!_ ”

Russell fumbled, shifting his weight between his feet. He opened his mouth to reply, but shut it again as the wind swept away the first syllable of his response. Taking it as a sign, he turned on his heel and walked away from the situation.

Behind him, he could hear little snippets of the men’s speech. What had initially begun as disappointed leering turned into playful threats, and more alarmingly, they were growing louder.

Closer.

Russ fought to swallow the tense knot in his throat as he prepared to break into a sprint.

 _I should have just stayed home_.

“Hey! Slow _down,_ we just wanna talk to you!”

He shut his eyes, hands balling into fists.

 _As if that’s the problem. I shouldn’t have to deal with this, just because I_ \--

“ _Stop._ ”

This voice was different. It was commanding, nearly gravely. Russell’s heart stopped in its tracks, and so did his feet. His blood was ice as he forced himself to turn around and face it…

And found that it wasn’t directed at him. 

Between Russell and the approaching gaggle, an imposing figure stood firm. They had their back to him, but their stature is familiar. _The person from the store…_

For a long moment, the world stood still. The group silently watched the newcomer, and Russell remained rooted to the spot. His eyes darted between the back of their hood and their stiff-looking fingers by their sides. They remained tense, waiting for a reason to lunge at the drunkards.

Then, the tension breaks as one of the men laughed, slurring, “What’s your fuckin’ _deal_ , dude?”

“Yeah, we’re just messing around. Chill...” Another chimed in.

Stiffly, the tall figure twisted around to make eye contact with Russell. Between his sunglasses and thick mane of hair, Russ caught a glimpse of the man’s eyes. His skin was pale, and his eyes were dark.

He gestured at the men, then croaked, “... D-... do you want them to follow you?”

Russ opened his mouth to reply, but his throat wouldn’t comply. Instead, he shook his head forcefully.

The man nodded, then turned back to the unwanted guests. “Please leave us alone.”

The same one who’d called out last time rolled his eyes, “Oh, or else _wh-_ ”

One of his friend’s cut him off with a hand on his shoulder. The instigator gave him a confused look, before his friend whispered something to him.

Even in the dark, his face went pale. “... _Oh_. Fuck that.” He mumbled, putting up his hands.

"Whatever you want, kid. It’ll be your funeral.” Another shrugged, motioning for his group to follow him back to the bar. “It’s fucking _freezing_ out here. Let's go."

Relief poured out of Russ’s body as they shuffled off. Still, his pulse pounded in his ears as he stared at the broad back of his savior.

 _Just in, and out. In, and out._ Russell struggled to find a crumb of composure as the tall man finally turned around to properly face him.

_In… and out._

The man shook the tension out of his hands, cleared his throat, then asked, “Are you okay?”

Russ nodded, throat still blocked by an invisible lump.

The stranger tilted his head as he observed the shorter guy from a respectful distance. It was impossible to tell exactly where he was looking through his glasses, which made Russell squirm in his skin.

“I’m Jeff.” He said abruptly, snapping Russ out of his thoughts. “Um… D-... Do you want me to walk home with you? I’m not busy or anything.”

Perhaps it was the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, but Russ found himself struggling to process the situation. _Should I be scared...? He kept those assholes away from me, but… What if he has something worse in mind for me?_

“I-if you don’t want me to, I won’t be offended. I just-...” He leaned in, whispering hoarsely with a nod toward the bar, “Y’know, I can wait here and keep an eye on them, too.”

Something about his tone, mannerisms, his _energy_ … He came off as genuinely innocent. Not much about his expression could be discerned, but it was obvious that Jeff was doing everything he could to put Russ at ease. If he was being honest with himself, Russ was pretty sure that if the dude wasn’t _a foot and a half_ taller than himself and built like a shit brickhouse, Jeff would come off as entirely harmless.

Finally, Russ found the strength to speak. “... Thank you. My name is Russell. Can... I ask you something?”

“Oh, of course!” Jeff replied eagerly.

“Why did you do that?”

He hesitated. Reflexively, his fingers found a lock of his black hair and began to toy with it. “Well… I guess, um…” He fumbled, “I’ve seen you… _around_ , before. And, I worry about people, y’know? There’s a lot of bad folk in this area. So, when I heard those guys yelling at you, I thought that you might want some help.”

Russell nodded. “... Okay. Thanks for stepping in.”

“It was no problem. Why wouldn’t I?” He said, shrugging. “Gotta earn my keep somehow, heh…”

Russ grinned, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “... If you don’t mind, I wouldn’t mind if you walked with me.”

Under his mask, a wide smile stretched Jeff’s mouth. “O-of course! Thank you!” 

He laughed softly, “For _what_ _?_ You’re the one doing me a favor.”

“Just… trusting me, really.”

“It’s the least I can do.” Russ took a step back, “Let’s get moving. It really is fucking freezing.”

Jeff nodded giddily, following after him. “Lead the way!”

The two of them walked side-by-side, but Jeff kept a comfortable distance from his companion. He stayed close enough that he never left Russ’s field of view, but never quite came within arm’s reach.

With his hands shoved deep into his hoodie’s pocket, Jeff stared off ahead of them. Occasionally, he’d glance behind them, but never looked directly at Russell for long.

As they waited for an intersection to clear, Russ piped up. “Weird question, but… You don’t think I’m a kid, do you?”

“No, of course not. Why would a kid be out this late?” Jeff replied, amused.

“Just wondering. I know I have a baby-face, but like... Y’know, I’m old enough to drink. I’ve voted _twice._ ” Russell elaborated, adding with a snort, “I’ve had people threaten to call my _parents_ on me before. I haven’t lived with them for five years.”

Jeff made a deep, wheezy sound in response. A laugh, perhaps? The noise alone made Russ laugh along with him.

“I-I can’t relate to that, I’m sorry.” Jeff replies, “I haven’t been carded in over 20 years.”

“Really? How old are you?” Russ blurted, eyes flicking over his tall companion’s form. The best indication he could get of Jeff’s age was that one of his knees kept popping. Beside that, he was a peak physical specimen.

“Um… 38.” He admitted.

“Oh. Huh…” Russ muttered, surprised. Out of the corner of his eye, Jeff’s shoulders dipped forward.

“Yeah, I know. Sorry.”

“... What for?”

“For, um. Being me, I guess.” He gestured vaguely at himself. “I know I’m scary to look at. Obviously.”

Russ responded quickly, “You shouldn’t apologize for that. Like, you can’t help being massive, or intimidating, or... whatever. And even if you _could_ \--”

“You haven’t even seen what I look like.” Jeff cut in, idly toying with his hair again. “I _like_ how I look. But, y’know, some people assume a lot about you by your appearance.”

“Ahah, I get that…” Russ sighed, “I wish more people realized that stuff doesn’t matter. How you look doesn’t make you a bad person, or a good person. It’s your _actions_ that matter.”

“Exactly. I try really hard to be _good._ ”

“I think you are. I mean, you deescalated a really nasty situation for me. That’s pretty good”

Jeff’s gaze was fixed on the sidewalk ahead of them as he listened. Russell’s eyes settled on the pink skin of his neck as Jeff idly scratched at it. The skin there was splotchy and shiny in places, much like his hand. It reminded Russ of a burn.

Russ cleared his throat, snapping himself out of his thoughts. “You know what? You remind me a little of my older brother.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Though… He might be a little taller than you are, actually.”

Jeff stumbled over an uneven slab of concrete, but recovered quickly. His stiff posture read to Russell as embarrassment.

“Th-... thank you. That’s really nice of you to say.” He murmured, shoving his stiff fingers into his pocket once more.

“Hardly. It’s common decency.” Russ shrugged dismissively, slowing his stride as he fished out his house key.

With his head tilted back, Jeffery took in the apartment building towering above them. “Nice place.”

“For a one-bedroom? It’s not too bad. I’d like it a lot if they ever fixed the elevator. And the stairs..” Russell griped, and again, Jeff laughed. It was such a genuine sound of happiness, it made Russ’s chest ache.

When the giggle died off, he coughed. “Well. Um… Thank you for letting me walk you home. It really means a lot to me.”

“No, really, thank _you_.” Russ stood on the second step to the entryway, turning to face the man on the sidewalk. “If you hadn’t been there, tonight might have been… kinda shitty for me.”

“It’s just common decency.” Jeff fired back, rolling his shoulders.

Even two-steps up, Jeff still had a few inches on Russell. He didn't want to make the larger man uncomfortable by staring at him, but he could _see_ the excitement radiating off of Jeff's body.

Rather forcefully, Jeff blurted, “C-can I give you my email address?”

“... Uh… Sure!” Russ chirped, then offered, “I could give you my phone number, too. I text more than I… um… email?”

Jeff nodded eagerly, stepping just a bit closer as Russell pulled out his phone. They clumsily traded information, and soon they both had a new addition to their contacts list.

When they’d finished, Russ tucked his phone back into his pocket. For just a second, Russ found himself at near eye-level with the slouching man in front of him. His eyes searched the reflective surface of Jeff’s glasses, and he saw himself staring back. But behind that, he could just make out the dark, wide eyes staring right back at him.

_… I think they’re brown. Wait, is he wearing eyeliner???_

With a start, Jeff broke eye contact and stepped back. His shoulders were drawn upward with tension as he abruptly announced, “Well! I guess I should leave you alone now.”

Taking the cue, Russ replied, “Oh. Well, thanks again! Get home safe.”

Walking backward toward the sidewalk, he called, “Yep! You too! … I-I mean, um…”

Russ giggled quietly at Jeff’s embarrassment, “Thanks, Jeff. I’ll text you sometime, okay?”

Jeff flashed him a thumbs up, then shoved his hand back into his pocket as he disappeared back the way they’d come. When he was out of sight, Russ exhaled slowly before he began the long climb upstairs.

Not long after, in another part of town, an apartment door swung open and shut in rapid succession. The living room was dark, save for the flickering blue glow of the television screen.

“Hey, Jiffy.” A small figure swathed in blankets called from the couch. The blond barely flicked his eyes away from the screen as Jeff lumbered in. “You’re back early. What’s up?”

“A thousand pardons, Sir Benjamin.” Jeff replied with a mock bow, then slipped back into a sincere tone. “I actually got, um… kinda tied up with something?”

“Ooh, sounds kinky.” He smirked over his controller.

Jeff covered Ben’s face with his hand and smushed it gently. “Shut up, I’m in a good mood. I made a new friend!”

Ben wiggled away, flopping out of Jeff’s grasp. “Woah, really?”

“Yeah! His name’s Russell, and he gave me his email address _and_ his phone number!” Jeff gushed, carefully lowering himself onto the creaky couch. Despite his best efforts, the two were still knee-to-knee.

Ben paused his game, giving Jeff an analytical once-over, but Jeff kept going without noticing the look. “We were both at the corner store, and some guys were trying to hassle him when he was walking home. I stepped in and scared them off, and he let me walk him home!”

Ben sucked in a slow breath through his teeth. “Ooooh, boy. Did it get physical?”

“Nah, they backed off as soon as they recognized me.” Jeff announced proudly, folding his arms over his broad chest. “... Oh, yeah. They were the same guys who pulled my mask off last week.”

“Well, that’s... _good_ …” Ben replied, pausing to worry his lip with his teeth. After a moment, he put his hand on Jeff’s arm and squeezed gently. “Look, dude. I hate to play the devil’s advocate, but… Are you sure that this guy is, like… cool?”

Jeff pats Ben’s hand dismissively, “Of course I’m sure. He’s a _protector_. I like him.”

Ben opened his mouth, but his words dissolved into a long sigh. “Alright, man. You’re an adult, I trust your judgement. Just, be careful this time.” He said, leaning back against the cushions and resuming his game.

“Careful is my middle name, Benny.” Jeff flashed him a wide grin as he gave a light shove. Well, _light_ by Jeff’s standards. Ben flopped against the opposite arm of the couch. With a string of curses and a kick to the bicep, the night moved on.


	4. Cold Expression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more art from mr. t_c_b_ll just dropped, including jeffery the killer and ben the drowned. also jeff's nipples, incidentally.
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/p/CKXtKyAFBDg/

When Russell finally woke up, the sun had been out for hours. It took another hour of laying around with the curtains closed for him to consider getting out of the bed. During that downtime, he sent some texts, work emails, and frog pictures.

Summoning up all the courage he could muster, Russ peeled himself out of bed. Then came the shivering trek across the glacial floor of his bedroom. As much as he loved having  _ two _ windows in his bedroom, having two walls facing the outside was a nightmare in the winter. Especially with the ancient insulation… Luckily, he’s just a hot shower away from washing away the January frost.

With his waking-up process over with, Russell curled up with his laptop and sketchbook at his desk. As his computer booted up, he idly pawed through the pages of his work. There’s character designs, comic pages, and a doodle from the night before. His eyes lingered on that; a little chibi of a man whose shoulders were as wide as he was tall. With his hood pulled up and sunglasses glinting, he flashed a thumbs-up at the viewer.

_ Jeff. _

Russ leaned back in his seat, walking himself through the previous evening events. The one-sided interaction at the corner store, the cat-calling, Jeff stepping in… The walk home.

Jeff isn’t like anyone else Russell had ever met. The closest person he could think of was... himself. Russ knew that he wore his heart on his sleeve, though he’d learned over time to try to hide it. During the short time he’d been near Jeff, he could feel that same pulse reflected back at him.

Curiously, Russ pulled out his phone and tabbed over to his contact list. To his newest addition, he wrote out a short message.

_ hey, its russ :^) just wanted to say thanks again, assuming this is the right number lmao _

Before he could overthink it, he sent the message and promptly tossed his phone onto his bed. To keep himself distracted from the vulnerability of sending the first text, he picked up his pencil to begin working.

Before he could sketch so much as a complete circle, though, his phone buzzed. With his heart-rate gradually rising, Russell padded over to his bed and picked his phone back up.

_ Jeff. _

_ Good morning! I hope you slept well! Did you hear about the UFO sighting in Henderson last night? _

Russ blinked at the screen. Now  _ that’s _ an introductory text.

_ i did not! :0 what happened?? _

Right away, Jeff began typing. Still, it took a solid minute for him to receive the response.

_ I’ll email you the article. _

A few minutes after that, his laptop pinged with an email notification, from  _ what2doabtmylife  _ at  _ yeehaw-dot-com _ . With a grin, Russ opened the article and skimmed through it.

_ wow, that’s wild! i sure hope they find their cat… ; ; are you into aliens and stuff? _

_ Not as much as my best friend, Ben. When he isn’t working or playing video-games, we’ll go hunt for “extraterrestrial activity” in the area. I don’t really get it, but I like when he shares his interests with me. _

_ that’s so sweet, tho! i’m the same way, i love hearing people ramble about stuff they like… what kinda stuff do YOU like? _

By the time Jeff finished his reply, Russ had gotten halfway through a sketch.

_ I like hanging out with Ben, and playing with animals. Sometimes, I go for long walks. I guess that’s why I’m so “massive”, haha! _

Russ giggled in amusement as he imagined Jeff ripping a tree out of the ground with his bare hands. With a buzz, he got a follow-up text shortly thereafter.

_ I only go out after the sun goes down. I’m not particularly social. _

_ oooh i see, you’re a night owl! that’s cool, so am i… though i’m trying to work on that ; ; _

_ Can I ask you what “; ;” means? _

  
  


As it turned out, Jeff was excellent company for Russell while he worked. The two went back and forth for hours. It was just chatter, mostly, but it kept both of them entertained until the sun dipped below the horizon. 

During a lull, Russell paced the floor of his apartment to stretch his legs. An aura of contentment radiated off of his warm skin, but was slightly dampened by the barren contents of his fridge.

“Ah… shit.” Russ mumbled, glancing over at the clock. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he weighed his options. Since the grocery store had already closed, and most place’s delivery fee was  _ outrageous _ , his options were limited. Unenthusiastically, he padded back into his room to tug on his shoes and jacket. 

Using the tip of their misshapen nail, a pair of pink hands struggle to smooth out a dollar bill.

“S-... sorry…” Jeffery mumbled, keeping his head down as he slid the handful of change and stray dollar bills toward the cashier.

With a quiet  _ “Don’t worry about it” _ , she accepted the cash and punched something into the register. Gingerly, Jeff took his bag of goodies and waited patiently for his receipt.

_ Ding. _ The cashier’s eyes flicked over to the automatic door, and flashed a relieved smile at the new guest.

Russell, still shivering from the cold, barely noticed the cashier. His attention was fully drawn to the person the cashier was tending to. He paused for a moment, seeing the stress in Jeff’s frame. But before he could think better of it, he called out, “Hey, Jeff! Fancy meeting you around here.”

With his back held stiff, Jeff turned to see who it was. There was a delay between him spotting the shorter man and him verbally acknowledging him.

“Oh!" He said, finally. "It’s nice to see you, Russell.”

“Yeah, same here!” He said. Jeff took a half-step toward him, before the cashier cleared her throat.

“Um… Excuse me, sir?” She muttered, lamely holding out a receipt.

Jeff turned back to her, quickly whispering an apology as he pinched it between middle and index finger. After clumsily shoving it into his jacket pocket, he shuffled closer to Russ, near the door. “S-so, what brings you out so late?”

“I haven’t had dinner yet, so I came to grab a snack.” He explained sheepishly, then added, “The risk of hypothermia really helps you work up an appetite, y’know?”

Jeff rasped through a laugh, “I hope you’re not too cold. I-if you are, the diner up the street will let you sit in there until you warm up.”

Russ peered through the flyers covering the door, squinting at the restaurant. “Oh, yeah, I’ve eaten there before. They have really good cheese sticks.”

He hesitated again, as if buffering. “Do they? I’ve never tried ‘em.”

“Do you want to?”

Jeff tilted his head, and remained quiet as he considered that. “... Well… I usually just get whatever is cheapest. But, I guess they could be nice.”

Russ flashed him a smile, nodding toward the door. “Why don’t we go, then?”

“Wh-... Like, right now?” Jeff fumbled, “I-I don’t really have much money on me right now.”

“Don’t worry about it! It’ll be my treat.”

“Oh… No, you don’t have to do that. I’d hate to put you out…” He waved his hands in a quieting motion.

“I don’t mind, seriously.” Russ said.

Behind them, the cashier sighed loudly. When Russ glanced back, he caught the tail end of her dramatic eye roll.

Jeff cleared his throat, drawing his attention back to the tall man. “... I-... If you really want to, then… I’ll just get a coffee or something.” Jeff said quietly.

“Sounds good to me. Let’s go.” Russ chirped, shooting the cashier a dirty-look as Jeff opened the door for them to leave.

She didn't notice.

The cold January air sent a chill down their backs as they crossed the empty street. Russell tugged his scarf up over his mouth and stole a glance up at his companion. He couldn’t make out anything about his expression through his mask, so he just asked.

“Are you alright?”

“Hm?" Jeff hummed, "Oh, yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just… that lady in there. She was kind of rude, wasn't she?”

Jeff shrugged, stepping up on the curb and tugging open the restaurant door. “Maybe. I didn’t notice. She might be mad that I talked to her for too long...”

Russell winced at the remark. “That's no excuse for being hostile, though.” He grumbled, untying his scarf as they entered.

“Heya! Just the t-...” A bright voice began, then trailed off. A young man stood behind the host-stand, staring up at Jeff with wide eyes. He was silent for a beat, before snapping back into his work-sona. “Er… Is it just you two?”

Pointedly, Jeff kept his attention focused on a quarter-machine by the door.

“Yep.” Russ answered, his tone clipped.

The guy nodded, keeping his well-practiced smile in place as he grabbed their menus. His eyes darted between the two of them as he gestured to the dining room, “Right this way, then!"

He guided them to a booth near the window, and asked, “Does here work for ya?”

Jeff tuned back in, pointing to a table near the back of the building. “C-... Could we sit back there, actually?”

“Yeah! Y'know, wherever you want is fine.” He tittered, tapping the menus against his nails as Jeff strode past him to his preferred table. With a nervous grin, he added, “Not like we're short on tables tonight.”

He wasn’t joking. They were the only people in the building, beside the cook thumbing through a textbook in the kitchen window.

While Russ surveyed the empty dining room, Jeff began the process of folding himself into a booth. His knees banged against the underside of the table a couple times, but eventually, he managed to settle in.

Gingerly, Russ slid into his own side of the booth, and the waiter set their menus down in front of them.

“So… What do y'all want to drink?” He asked, pulling a little pad of paper out of his apron.

“Just a sprite for me, please.”

Jeff remained silent, staring straight ahead at his table-mate. Both Russell and the server waited in confused silence, until Russ spoke up. “... Do... you still want that coffee?”

“Um… I don’t actually… like coffee very much.” Jeff admitted sheepishly. “Could I get a, um… coke instead?”

“Can do!” The server chirped, scribbling it down in his book before flipping it shut and turning on his heel. “Be right back.”

And just like that, the two were alone. Feeling warmth creep back into his bones, Russ shrugged off his jacket. As he took off his medical mask, he said, “I haven’t been in this diner since, like... last summer, I think.”

“Why’s that?” Jeff asked.

“That’s when I had friends in town, visiting me.” Russ said, “So, I had a reason to go out.”

“Ooh. No roommates?”

“Nah, not right now.” Russ shook his head, “How about you?”

Jeff looked down at the table, and began unfolding his napkin with the utmost care. “... Kind of. Ben.”

With two soft  _ thunk _ s, the server set down their sodas. “Do y’all know what you wanna order, or do you need some time?”

“Oh! Um…” Russ quickly picked up a menu, pouring over the options. The two lads had a quiet back-and-forth over what they wanted (and what they thought the other might like), before they finally settled on something.

When the server headed off to put in their order, the conversation picked back up.

“Ben’s my best friend.” Jeff continued, “We’ve been friends for… about five years, I think. Definitely as long as I’ve been in the area.”

“Oh, that’s nice! Living with friends is fun.” Russ nodded, “What brought you to Nevada?”

“Just… work stuff, I guess.” He said, balling up his straw wrapper between two of his thick fingers. “... What about you?”

“I had family in the area.” Russ answered, watching him push ice around the glass with his straw. “Then they moved, and I didn’t have enough money to follow them. So, I'm kind of in purgatory until I save up enough to leave.”

“Oh. So, you won’t be in the area long?” Jeff’s voice lilted downward in disappointment.

Russ laughed dryly, “Ah… Nah, I’m stuck here for now. I’m a freelance artist, so I probably won’t be able to move for a  _ while _ .”

His shoulders loosened. Jeff tapped his fingernails against the table as he constructed his next sentence. “How, um… does that work?”

“What, freelance work? For me, that means I look for small jobs on my own. Like, designing characters or illustrating stuff.”

Jeff nodded encouragingly, then glanced over the empty restaurant. His back was to the wall, so he didn’t have much ground to cover. “I do odd-jobs. Mostly physical labor.” He responded, reaching up and pulling down his mask. “... Yard-work, helping people move, that kinda stuff.”

The lower half of Jeff’s face was extremely pale, and missing parts. Where the outward expanse of his nose’s cartilage should be, there was only tight skin and exposed nostrils. His stiff, scarred hands raised the glass to his red-painted lips as he took a drink. The texture of the skin on his hands matched that of his face, but there was a striking contrast between the tones. In the fluorescent lighting, it reminded Russ of lumpy ceramic.

Russ’s eyes lingered on the lipstick stains on Jeff’s straw. Realizing his obvious staring, he focused his attention back back on his sunglasses as he said, “Wow. That sounds like hard work.”

Jeff’s tongue darted out for just a second as he set his glass back down, and he held his hand up over his mouth automatically. “It is!” He said, his strong jawline still visible as he spoke, “I mean, I'd rather do manual work than sit at a desk all day.”

“I don’t blame you. Desk work isn’t for everybody.”

“... Oh, I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean to insult your work--”

Russ held up his hands soothingly, “No offence taken! Some people have a hard time sitting still, and some people can’t move around all day. Everyone has strengths and weaknesses.”

“... That is true.” Jeff said thoughtfully, drumming his fingers on his cheek. “Ben does both. He repairs computers and phones and gaming machines. It's a lot of sitting  _ and _ standing.” He grinned, “And I don’t understand  _ any  _ of it.”

“Ooh, I couldn’t do that.” He smiled back, “I know some people who do that kind of stuff. Fishing around in computer guts… It's fun to watch.”

He nodded in agreement, looking over at the counter where the waiter was standing. The young man was checking his nails, speaking to the cook through the window unhurriedly.

“... Do you have many friends?” He blurted, then pressed his mouth against his hand.

“Not a lot.” Russ answered honestly, “Just a couple close ones. I'm not exactly an extrovert."

“Are…  _ we _ friends?” Jeff asked trepidatiously.

Russ considered the question. Under the table, Jeff’s leg bounced furiously. Even though he wasn't looking at him, there was something vulnerable in Jeff's expression. It almost broke Russ’s heart.

“Yeah! Of course we can be friends." He said, forcing any hint of pity out of his tone. "If you want to be, of course."

Jeff was silent for longer than usual. Considering the typical duration of his conversational pauses, the suspense was palpable.

In the time it took him to think of a response, the waiter brought them their food. The pair began to eat silently. Well, beyond Russ asking if he liked the cheese sticks.

He did. They're " _ Messy, but good _ ."

They exited as a pair. Russell fidgeted with his scarf, trying to dispel the tension he sensed between them. Just as he had come up with something funny to say about the quarter machine, Jeff finally spoke.

“I do.”

“... Wha?”

He cleared his throat, then clarified, “I do want to be your friend.”

“Oh!” Russ beamed, “Well, that settles that, then!”

Jeff hadn't quite been able to force himself to meet the smaller man’s gaze, so he kept his eyes on the sidewalk as he walked.

Russ, who'd stopped walking at the intersection, called out to him. "Jeff? Where are you goin'?"

“Um…” Jeff paused, slowly turning around. That seemed to be a laborious task for him. “Your house?”

“Do you live around there?”

He faltered, “Sort of.”

“I don’t wanna put you out, if walking me home is out of the way.” Russ rocked on his heels.

“Friends walk their friends home, don’t they?” Jeff asked, his voice soft.

He responded with the same gentleness, “They don’t have to. I don’t expect you to go out of your way for me. I can walk myself home tonight.”

“Oh…” Jeff murmured, “Okay. I-... If that’s what you want.”

Russell nodded, “I do! I’ll give you a text when I get home, though.”

He nodded along, stepping backward to put more space between them. With his mask back on, his expression was unreadable. But the stress in his shoulders let on more emotion than Jeff would have liked.

Russ’s brow furrowed in confusion, before lifting in realization. “... I'm not mad or anything! It was really nice to run into you, actually. Um, maybe we could hang out again sometime!”

“... I’d like that. Have a good night, Russell.” He murmured, inclining his head in farewell as he turned to leave.

“Get home safe!” He called after him reassuringly. Despite his kind intentions, he could see Jeff’s back slouch slightly before he disappeared from view.

With a soft sigh, Russell headed off toward his home.  _ Was that too harsh? He seemed… hurt. _

His stomach sank low as he popped in his earbuds, letting his music paint over his thoughts.  _ I hate to make him feel rejected, but… I don’t want him to get into the habit of bending over backward to please me. _

_ If that’s something I struggle with, I should try to keep that in mind for other people, too. _

True to his word, Jeff got a text from Russell when he'd arrived home. And just as he had all day, he responded with enthusiasm and interest.

He stayed up until Russ said he was going to bed. And before Jeff himself went to sleep, he made sure his ringer was up.  _ In case he texts me before I wake up. That way, I'll hear it and wake up right away. _

_ I mean, that's what a friend should do, right? _


End file.
